Wild Eyed Beauty
by Beautiful Nightmare
Summary: Life can be a struggle sometimes. Good, bad, it's all part of the journey. A journey that could lead to something wonderful if you just let it. But letting go is the hard part.
1. Chapter One: Angel in Disguise

**Author: **Beautiful Nightmare**  
****Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.  
**Rating:** R for sporadicly foul language.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter One: Angel in Disguise**

"Brody!" Dylan called up the stairs. "What the hell is taking so long?" She glanced down at the phone in her hand. If her little brother didn't get his ass in the car in the next minute they were going to be late for his appointment. Again.

At five years old, he was as devilish as Dennis the Menace, but as cute as the dimple in his left cheek. She loved him more than anyone or anything. But, boy, could he drive her crazy without even trying. She knew from the high pitched giggles floating down the stairs that he was either hiding under her bed or climbing up the linen closet attempting to hide on the top shelf. Whatever his choice for the day, she couldn't afford to get him to yet another appointment late.

Dylan climbed the stairs quickly and followed the stifled giggles to her room, past the linen closet. As she stepped into the room she heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a hand clamping over lips. Not very stealthy, but what did she expect? Brody was only five after all, and hadn't developed the necessary skills of sneaking. He'd been sheltered more than was necessary because their mother thought it was best for his health. He was a classic example of a "bubble wrapped" child. One who'd never been allowed to play in the dirt, drink from the hose, or fall off a bike.

"Shoot. Where are you Brody?" she asked, her voice high for his benefit.

She made her way around the bed, knowing full well his feet would be at the right side of the mattress so he could face the door. Bending quickly at the waist, she grasped his sock clad feet and tugged him out from under the bed. His shrill squeal dissolved into hysteric giggles and Dylan grinned despite herself. She often tried to feign the responsible adult but at the sound of his laughter, she'd melt. He was a cherub of a child, shiny green eyes, the color of grass kissed by rain, dark auburn hair that tumbled unsteadily over his forehead, and that resist me not dimple in his left cheek.

"You, my dear, are not getting a sucker after your neb today," she teased, as she hauled him off the floor and over one shoulder.

Clasping an arm around his dangling legs she descended the stairs of her townhouse slowly and grabbed her purse off the kitchen table. If she could manage to avoid traffic they'd only be five minutes late, ten at the most. But avoiding traffic in Chicago rush hour was like Florida moving out of a hurricane's destructive path. It just didn't happen.

She opened the back door of her car and carefully placed Brody into the booster seat she couldn't remember being confined to at his age. He squirmed in his seat until he was comfortable and then buckled himself in. "When can I sit up in the front?" he asked softly.

He knew the answer but asked every time he was in the car, just to make sure the Illinois state laws hadn't changed without his knowledge. Dylan shut the back door and slid into the front seat, "Not until you gain a few more pounds. I'll take you to McDonalds after your appointment. Just don't tell Mom."

Brody grinned at her in the rearview mirror before staring out the window. She cranked the radio and let the smooth sounds of Zac Brown Band carry them towards rush hour traffic. When their mother, Rachel, took Brody to his appointments he arrived with time to spare. In fact, they were usually anally early. And, although, when Dylan took Brody they _were_ late, they also made the weekly appointments fun. Instead of feeling like he was destined to be held captive by his health for life, he was set free and allowed to be as childish as he wanted. Yes, they were late, but Brody was happy, and she'd put up with the snarky bitchy nurses just to see his sweet smile.

"Dylan?"

"Mhmm?" she murmured, as she pulled into the downtown core and halted behind a long line of frustrated afternoon drivers.

"When am I gonna be better?"

Dylan frowned stiffly. It was a question he asked before every appointment. Besides the debilitating asthma he suffered from he could be considered relatively healthy in all other aspects. But because of the asthma, he'd been in and out of ICU for most of his life. His pediatrician now saw him once a week to check his lungs and provide him with a more effective dosage nebulizer. If it was her decision, she'd go to monthly visits only until an attack. However, their mother was adamant that regular appointments were a necessity.

Shaking her head sadly she glanced into the back seat. He was still gazing forlornly out the window when she said, "Anytime now, big guy. I promise."

A promise like that could never be kept. She was vastly uneducated and unqualified in the medical field, but she hoped a little positive vibes would do the trick. She wanted to take him to the park in the summer and roll down hills, build snowmen then destroy them in the winter. She'd grown up doing those things but he'd never been allowed because everything set in motion another severe attack. The simplest pleasures a child can experience were only a fragment of his imagination.

He accepted her promise with a simple "Okay" and continued to stare out the window. The roads were slick with fall time rain and the puddles pooling on the streets called playfully. She'd give her left lung to him if it would allow a moments relief.

They each finished the long drive in their own minds. She was contemplating whether to begin a holistic method of treatment despite what their mother thought. "Hippie shit didn't solve anything" was her usual reply whenever Dylan broached the subject. Because Brody was only her brother and not her son she couldn't go against her mother's wishes. But, oh, how she wished to.

The parking lot was full, as usual, so she parked her car in the only free space at the back of the lot and held the door open for Brody to jump down to the pavement. He was small for his age, just shy of thirty one pounds and standing at thirty four inches. He tilted his head all the way back and smiled at her, "Can I play soccer this winter?"

"We'll see, closer to the season," Dylan answered, crouching in front of him so he could climb up onto her back. Not only would he not be able to play soccer that indoor season, but he also wouldn't be able to run. Just a walk across the long parking lot could wind him, a run would likely land him in ICU again for a week or more. She knew all of this, but didn't say because it would crush him to know he was stuck inside again all winter.

"I want to be like Pele."

"What do you know about Pele?" she laughed, meandering her way slowly towards the main entrance.

"I know he was the world's greatest player," Brody shouted, bouncing against her back.

"How'd you know that?"

He clicked his tongue like she'd asked the most ridiculous question, "Google."

Dylan snickered at his response. She still found it odd that children of his age were so technologically knowledgeable. At twenty six, she was still struggling with the basics of Microsoft word. She could vaguely deal with Internet and email, but anything above that was too complicated. In fact, she was still learning to text, though a recently purchased iPhone was making it a little easier. Her generation was obsessed with technology, but as a child she'd been playing outside from dawn until dusk. When she hit junior high and high school she learned to juggle soccer, tennis, and school work with whatever winter sport was available. Any spare time she found was used to rest instead of spending hours in some awkward chat room with a bunch of old perverts.

"You're never gonna get a girlfriend talking like that," she joked, pausing as the entrance swooshed open letting out a warm rush of filtered air.

"Dylan," he groaned, dragging the "la" of her name out in a way only a child could.

Once they crossed the threshold she crouched again and let him clamber off her back. Right away he rounded the security desk and bumped fists with the man behind it. They were in the hospital so often that they'd developed a friendly relationship with many of the lower level staff. Brody adored Sam, the old guard who was always ready with a smile and a sucker. As if on cue, he pulled a red sucker from his shirt pocket and handed it to Brody.

"How you guys doing today?" Sam asked.

Brody slid the sucker into a spare pocket on her purse and smiled. "Not to bad. How late are we?" she wondered.

"Not so bad this time," he answered, before adding a smile and a warning for Brody, "You best stop hiding right before your appointment."

Brody's eyes flashed with pleasure, before leading her towards the bank of elevators to the left of the main doors. He shoved his tiny finger against the up button and stepped back to watch the numbers count down until the doors clanged open and expelled a heavily pregnant woman and her exhausted looking husband. Braxton Hicks had obviously played mayhem on his nerves as he blinked in the brightness of the afternoon sun streaming through the large windows. Dylan laid a hand on Brody's shoulder to allow the couple space to move before they both stepped into the elevator. He punched the fifth floor button and giggled as he pulled his finger along the four buttons leading down.

His bright eyes turned to her and sparkled in mischief. She snorted in amusement; glad they were getting off on the fifth floor instead of the ninth. Her hand slid off her purse and waited in the air palm up. He knew she'd never correct the behavior, because quite frankly, it was exactly what she'd have done when younger. He slapped her hand loudly as the doors began sliding shut.

"Hey! Hold the elevator!"

Grabbing hold of a door she held them open while a dark haired man jumped in. He was taller than she, much wider, and he nodded at her. "Thanks," he said, as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. Normally Dylan wouldn't have wasted an extra moment looking at a random man, but in this situation she couldn't help but focus on him. His chest was broad and well defined; a fact that couldn't go unnoticed when his grey shirt stretched so desperately over his muscles. That, paired with a beautifully angular face covered in day old fuzz and the softest shade of seafoam green eyes, called for a double take. Just now his face was clouded with anxiety and his lips turned down at the edges, but still he took her breath away. She'd seen attractive men before, but this one was almost unbearable to look at. And he seemed not to notice how devastatingly handsome he was.

Dylan swallowed the froth that had formed in her throat and croaked, "No worries."

She felt like she'd been staring at him for years, but when she faced the doors again they were just clanging shut. The car shuddered softly as it lifted upwards towards their destination. Brody stood beside her, forgotten, until he wound his arm around her leg and faced the man beside her with obvious interest. "You have gray hair," he stated bluntly.

The man beside her barked out a laugh and turned to look at her little brother. A wide smile pulled his lips apart and she noticed the smallest of spaces between his front teeth. An uncomfortable extra beat slammed her heart and her eyes widened in shock. "Filter," she said, turning away from the man as quickly as possible. The extra punch to her chest unnerved her.

"It's alright," he replied, the laughed still evident in his voice. "Yeah, I do have gray hair."

"Why?" her brother asked.

"Brody!"

"Cause I'm old," the man answered.

"How old?"

"Oh my God," Dylan breathed out, reaching a hand around her brother and covering his mouth while pulling him against her thigh. Brody fought against her muzzle while the man laughed at the absurdly endearing child that couldn't keep his mouth shut. She could feel the blush creep up her neck, "I'm sorry," she finished, turning to look at him again.

He was smiling at her now, like any normal person would when a precocious child made himself known. "Don't worry about it," he answered, stealing his smoldering gaze and placing it on her brother again. She let her breath out as quietly as possible as he said, "I'm thirty two," to her brother.

The stranger seemed to have no problem talking with her brother so she let her hand off his mouth, settling it on his shoulder just in case. Brody blinked at the man, "You're almost as old as my Mom. I'm Brody."

"Well Brody, your mom doesn't look as old as you say she is," he answered, looking back up at her.

Dylan could feel her eyes bulge out of her head and her heart stop in sync. He clearly thought she was Brody's mother, and she found herself correcting him, "I'm his sister actually." Why it mattered was uncertain, she just felt like she had to clarify.

"I thought you looked too young to be a mom."

Normally she might have been offended by that comment, but instead found herself glad he knew she didn't have a child. Her mother had been young when she'd been born, just thirteen days past seventeen, and she'd made a wonderful life for Dylan. "Okay," she said, mentally slapping herself at her awkward response.

The man's eyes had already returned to Brody due in part to her lack of smart reply. She felt the loss deep in her gut but remained as still as possible. Collapsing in despair because someone's eyes weren't on you wasn't considered socially acceptable. "I'm Kelly," he told her brother, enfolding the hand her brother offered and pumping it twice.

The fact that her brother felt the need to shake hands proved how sheltered he really was. A high five was more appropriate but she'd never tell him different. The sight only solidified her determination to get him out of the house that winter and learn some common street sense.

Kelly released her brother's hand just as the doors slid open to the fifth floor. Dylan ushered him to the door and allowed her brother a wave and a quickly uttered "Bye". They were late for his appointment and though she'd rather stay put in the elevator and gaze at Kelly she had responsibilities. And those responsibilities didn't include taking off her panties and jumping a perfect stranger.

"See you later," Kelly said, catching her eyes before the doors slid completely shut.

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**I'm not sure where this is going. I also don't know a thing about Chicago except for Oprah is there, or much about severe asthma except the dosage I can give on the ambulance. Bear with me, I'm winging this. The title might change as well. Go figure.**


	2. Chapter Two: Miracle

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Two: Miracle**

The desire to see Kelly again was overwhelming but she knew it'd never happen. She'd walked by thousands of people in the hospital in the last two and a half years and didn't recall seeing many of them again. It was all for the best anyways, most of the people in hospitals were dealing with some heavy issues. Make a friend in the hallways, and more than likely in a few months they'd no longer be walking the halls with you. Perhaps it was a negative and unjustified viewpoint, but it was also at least a little bit true.

Dylan followed Brody into Dr. Colburn's waiting room and pushed him towards the stiff backed chairs while she let the nurse, Gigi; know they'd arrived. A quick glance over Gigi's shoulder showed they were only eleven minutes late, six minutes better than the previous weeks appointment. As usual, the snarky women blessed Dylan with an exasperated look towards her and acknowledged their presence with a small head nod. The nurse hadn't bothered to speak to her in months; tardiness was a cardinal sin in her eyes. And Dylan and Brody's track record for being on time showed how sinfully sinful they were.

As usual, she felt Gigi roll her eyes at her back as soon as she'd turned away. She always contemplated giving the grumpy young woman an earful but resisted the urge only because of Dr. Colburn. He put a great deal of time into researching possible experimental treatments for her brother, not to mention taking time out every Friday afternoon for their appointment. He'd even left Thanksgiving dinner the year before to make a home call. No, she'd definitely suck it up and let the eye rolling continue. It was a miniscule price to pay for the health of her brother; who hadn't had an attack in over two months.

She'd just taken a seat beside her brother when Gigi called, "You can head in now."

An annoyed sigh bubbled in her chest but she held it until they were around the corner. There were more important things to worry about than a bitchy nurse. Dr. Colburn was leaning against the doorframe when they arrived at his office. He was a gentle man of close to sixty years with salt and pepper hair. Their mother had been crushing on him since they'd first met the doctor, and if Dylan was truthful with herself, she knew Dr. Colburn had a thing for Rachel as well. Sometimes she wished he'd make a move already. It was obvious to anyone around them how they felt, but professionalism obviously meant a great deal to the doctor.

"How you feeling today, Slugger?" Dr. Colburn asked.

"Great!" chimed Brody, settling onto the couch nearest the oxygen tank. "Dylan says I can play soccer this season."

"Oh, does she?" he questioned, looking back over his shoulder at her while he adjusted the mask around her brother's mouth and nose.

Dylan smiled as her brother bobbed his head enthusiastically. Though he hated attending the weekly appointment it was more the stigma of being unhealthy than the actual experience. He loved talking with Dr. Colburn about anything and everything. The week before Brody had brought the fifth book in the Harry Potter series so the doctor could read it and they could discuss it after the nebulizer was complete.

Instead of denying it, she winked at her brother and let herself daydream as the youngster completed his medical procedure. Normally she'd take part in their after neb conversations but that day she was lost in thoughts of Kelly. She'd noticed more than was appropriate, mostly how his shirt strained across his pectorals. Though it was a nice image to focus on she couldn't help but also notice how upset or sad he'd seemed when he stepped onto the elevator. Her brother seemed to have cheered him up, if only momentarily, and for that she was secretly thankful. Dylan couldn't guess what could have caused such a sour look on Kelly's face but she found herself hoping it never clouded his mood again.

Why she found herself feeling so protective towards the stranger was undetermined. It was silly, crazy, absurd even. Looks weren't everything and she didn't know a damn thing about him, he could have been the most disrespectful asshole ever. Regardless, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about him. The only conclusion she could come to was it'd been quite some time since her last casual encounter with a man and she must have needed physical contact. There was no other plausible explanation.

When the appointment drew to a close Dr. Colburn reminded her that Brody was to continue with his home nebulizer twice daily. Before he left them at the elevator he asked whether she'd be bringing her brother next week or if their mother would.

"Mom will be bringing him next week, and on time too," she assured him. "I gotta work, but I'll see you the week after."

"Sounds good. Drive safe," he said, as he patted Brody on the head like a spoiled puppy. "Tell Rachel I said hello," he added before the doors slid shut.

"Why does he always pet me?" Brody complained, shaking his hair across his forehead.

"Cause he can't hug you."

Brody shrugged then turned his face up towards her, a smile creeping across his mouth slowly. She could feel the air still as his mischievous eyes twinkled, "McDonalds still?"

"Pfft. Of course!"

Fast food was another thing their mother hadn't believed in since they'd discovered how severe his asthma was. When she'd grown up, she'd eaten dirt, even been encouraged to roll in mud by their mother. Rachel had grown into the bubble wrapped parenting style and hadn't allowed Brody anything fun since that day. Dylan didn't eat unhealthy often, but when she did it was always with her brother at her side. A guilty pleasure they could share together.

She stooped to his level before the elevator could settle on the ground floor and let him climb up her back again. Though his lungs would be clearest right after the higher dosage medication he'd just received she still piggybacked him to the car. Seeing him frolic would be a pleasant site but the alternative wasn't acceptable. IV and oxygen tubes made him look even smaller than he was, and if he could avoid the ICU for another two month she'd carry him all the time. They exited the hospital while he fought with himself over what his meal choice would be.

Their mother worked two jobs, one as a secretary for a miniscule oil company, and the other as a waitress at a popular diner on the interstate. Because Rachel worked so often Brody had his own room in her townhouse. He spent four nights a week at her place and she didn't mind in the least. At twenty six, she could have been partying with friends but the thought of what she had to lose kept her head on her shoulders. They'd almost lost him twice and she wasn't willing to waste a moment living without her little terror of a brother.

As the golden arches came into view her brother sighed delightfully and his face glazed over. McDonalds, a child's drug of choice. In that aspect, Brody was no different from any other kid. He leapt from the backseat in excitement and forced himself to walk as fast as his lungs would allow him to the glass doors of lard heaven.

Dylan allowed him to carry the tray to their table and listened to him yammer continually about the upcoming soccer season. Though she'd given up competitive soccer she wished she could bring him to her recreational league. He'd be enthralled with her games and she decided right then and there she was going to implement some holistic ingredients to his diet without telling their mother. What Rachel didn't know couldn't hurt her.

"How about we sign you up for soccer this weekend?"

"For real?" he squealed around a chicken nugget.

"Don't tell Mom and I'll even take you to get the equipment. No brother of mine is gonna be wearing cheap shoes."

"I won't tell Mom. I swear, Dylan. I really won't. I love you!"

She knew he did, but it never hurt to hear it. If she ever had a son of her own she hoped he'd be just like Brody. Brave and happy despite everything that'd happened to him in his short life. She'd be only too lucky to have a child like him.

They finished their meal over a lot of soccer talk and returned to her place for movies. He'd be in bed by eight and she'd be able to savor a glass of wine over a day she considered another win. Any day without an attack was a win. Pairing her brother's relatively healthy two months with a sighting of the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, gave her a sense of contentment. She'd was disappointed she'd never see Kelly again, but she hoped she never saw the inside of an ICU again.

Before the end of that weekend Dylan had finished her research on holistic methods of controlling asthma. When she picked Brody up from their mother's house Wednesday afternoon she was already prepared with his new supplements. He'd begin taking them at dinner and would continue to take them the four nights he was with her. She'd already talked it over with his traveling caregiver, and she was on board both with the additional medication but also with keeping the information from Rachel. She'd even offered to continue giving him the pills while he was with their mother.

Vanita, Brody's "nanny" for all intensive purposes, had been a Godsend when they'd hired her. Neither Dylan nor Rachel could afford to stay at home every day, and they certainly couldn't leave Brody at a daycare. The amount of germs present in those facilities would likely have killed him in minutes, and though Vanita wasn't cheap she was the best money Rachel spent. The nanny loved Brody and the fact that she agreed the holistic method might be worth a shot also made her a priceless ally.

When Dylan picked Brody up that night for the next four nights, she sat down with Vanita to discuss the soccer season. Though the supplements weren't an absolute, she'd signed her brother up for his first indoor season with the hope that they would be. Thankfully all games were scheduled early Thursday evenings, one of the nights he was with her. But every third Thursday of the month one of her clients needed her to stay late at the gym for a training session. They discussed the logistics of Vanita driving him to the game and Dylan showing up well before the game was over. Once they'd finalized that plan the only thing left to fall into place was the new supplements doing wonders on his body.

"I can't wait to see him play," Vanita smiled, her eyes lost in the future.

"I can't wait to see him run without keeling over," Dylan said, at the same silently praying for the miracle her brother needed.

They chatted for a few more minutes before Dylan called Brody down from his room. He appeared carrying the beaten up teddy bear Gordon she'd retired to him when he was first born. She'd lugged that stuffed toy around for the first nine years of her life, until she was "too old". Then he'd sat on her bed, even traveling with her to University on a tennis scholarship, until Brody was born. At first the fuzzy animal hadn't caused him any problems, and it was two years after he'd received him that he had his first attack. Since then the old toy had been washed and rewashed until he was frayed at the edges, his stuffing falling out, but they sowed him up and Brody kept him. In fact, just like she'd been at his age, he couldn't sleep without it. And so, that was the only thing he brought to and fro between the houses he lived in.

"You ready?" she asked, walking behind Vanita to the door.

"Yeah. What's for dinner?" was his reply, bringing up the rear.

Dylan shook her head and locked the door behind them. Vanita hugged her daily charge goodbye for the night with promises of cinnamon buns for breakfast the following day. She waved goodbye as the nanny pulled her car away from the curb and drove away. Left with just her brother, she hugged him to her side as their made their way to her car.

Around them the streets were already coming alive with ghouls, witches, vampires, and goblins. She could see the barely concealed disappointment on her brother's face as he climbed into his booster seat and buckled up. He decided not to dress up this year because he knew he wouldn't be going trick or treating with the other children. Normal activities were never just normal for him. Carrying an Epi-pen and an inhaler or two with him at all times seemed to steal the fun out of every situation. And even though he was trying to feign nonchalance, she could see he was hurting that'd he be missing out again.

Luckily for him, she'd had something planned just for him. She spent the previous night decorating the lounge in the basement as a haunted house and she'd already placed an order for pizza for dinner. If he couldn't take part in Halloween outside the house she would bring it to him, providing him with double the candy most children would accumulate themselves. She'd also bought herself a pirate ensemble and a Frankenstein costume for him. All she would need to do would be the makeup and the two of them would enjoy their own Halloween party. She just hoped he reacted in the positive and didn't focus on the fact that he was really just spending another night hanging with his boring sister and not kids his own age.

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**Thank you for the reviews and all the favourites and alerts. I'm still unsure the direction of this story, and I realize it's moving slowly. Again, bear with me.**


	3. Chapter Three: Case of the Hots

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Three: Case of the Hots**

When she rolled over the next morning her belly ached from all the refined sugar and cheese she'd eaten the night before. In the end, it'd all been worth it to see the smile on his face when he saw her come into his room dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow. He'd leapt off the bed and hugged her legs fiercely, accepting his costume with a delighted squeal. He'd changed quickly and as soon as the pizza arrived, they shut off all the lights in the house so the doorbell wouldn't disturb them all night and retired to the gloomy "haunted" basement. They devoured pizza, chocolate, and candy for the next few hours until they both felt ill.

Brody passed out shortly after eleven and she carried him to his room, tucking him in tightly for the night. Once she'd collapsed in bed she found her thoughts wandering to the man from the elevator. She wondered how beautiful his girlfriend or wife must be and if they'd spent the night handing out candy or taking a rug rat to collect it. She also wondered what could have made him so gloomy that day. Surely someone that looked like him had nothing to worry about. It always seemed that beautiful people were just lucky in life.

Not that she was ugly, far from it in fact, but she had to work hard for her "luck". She worked at the gym five days a week, Monday to Thursday, Saturdays, and every third Friday when she worked nights. She'd worked hard to save up the money for a car and a house. But that hard work hadn't brought her a significant other in a very long time. When she desired physical contact she made it happen but she hadn't fallen for anyone in a long time. And she couldn't see the point anyways. If she was truthful, she didn't have time to worry about pleasing a man when she was constantly worrying about Brody's health.

Before she crawled out of bed to wake Brody she let Kelly cross her mind again just for a moment. He'd seemed like a genuinely nice person, and she'd got that impression simply because he'd put up with her brother. The fact that he seemed to actually enjoy the moment must have been why she was still dwelling on him. He would have made a positive addition to Brody's life, and more than likely hers as well.

Dylan snorted derisively. She didn't know a thing about the man and there she was thinking he'd have made a good addition to the Dumont family. She was what all men and most women would call crazy. Focusing on something so out of reach was foolish. She chalked her over stimulated mind to the excessive sugar from the night before. A good workout before her first client at ten would settle her mind and get her focus back. Brody was all that mattered to her now. Keeping him healthy and getting him onto the turf by the New Year was her goal.

She pulled herself out of bed and padded across the hall to wake her brother. His bed was rumpled and empty, the sound of the toilet flushing letting her know he'd been completing his morning rituals. Vanita would be there momentarily with her famous cinnamon buns and whatever activities she had planned for the day to keep Brody entertained.

"Dylan!" Brody cried, rushing past her and climbing up onto his bed. He stood at the foot of the mattress and jumped into her arms when she followed him into the room. "Can I come to work with you today?"

She pressed a kiss into his soft hair and tossed him back on the bed, "I wish, buddy. But you have to stay here and make sure Vanita doesn't fall asleep."

For reasons she couldn't understand he wanted to spend time at the gym she worked at, where children were not allowed. It was an exclusive members only club for the more prosperous of Chicago's community. Seventy percent of her clientele were beautiful big chested women that would fit right in with America's favorite Housewives from TLC. The other thirty percent were ridiculously wealthy men looking to attract their next mistress. And although their lifestyles clashed with hers, she found common ground with all her clients. She really enjoyed her job, even enjoying giving unpaid therapy sessions. She'd probably heard more dirt on Chicago's high society than Oprah herself. She knew which of her clients had taken on secret lovers, whom were trying to oust whom from socialite status, and which Politicians were bedding call girls. She also dealt with the women's bad self esteem and the men's awkward advances with a professionalism she hadn't known she held until she'd been hired.

The fact that she got a free membership at the best gym in Chicago's downtown core was just a plus. She started every workday with forty five minutes of interval training, followed by a superset session with her coworker Lane. He was nice to look at, nothing compared to Kelly, and gay as a kite, but that didn't stop her from staring at his tight ass during deadlifts.

"But I want to come with you," Brody whined.

Dylan led him down the stairs to the main floor and shrugged when he asked again if he could join her for the day. "Sorry buddy, you know the gym rules. No kids. Not even cute one's like you," she said, tickling him underneath the chin.

He huffed in disappointment but accepted her refusal, climbing onto the couch and staring out the window for Vanita. As much as she'd love to bring him to work with her, he'd be bored to tears. There was nowhere for him to play, and though the gym was clean enough that he likely wouldn't have an attack, it just wasn't worth the risk.

She left him on the couch and went to the kitchen to put the coffee pot on for Vanita. The women brought the most delicious cinnamon buns and Dylan provided the Columbian Roast caffeine fix the nanny needed. When the coffeepot was simmering away she returned to her room and quickly changed into runner's leggings and a moisture wicking Nike shirt. She packed a gym bag full with another set of clean workout clothes and after work attire. Though she wore gym clothes all day she was expected to exit the building after a workday in office casual attire. Not that she minded, it was about the only time she got to wear jeans or skirts. Once home she was back in the sweats and hoodies instantly.

By the time she returned downstairs Vanita had already laid out three plates on the table. While the buns sat warming the table she cradled the biggest mug of coffee Dylan had ever seen. No one liked caffeine more than Vanita, and she wondered if she drank that much to deal with Dylan's constant questions. "You're out of green tea so I made you a chai instead," Vanita said, nodding at the much smaller cup next to her plate.

"Thanks," Dylan smiled, sitting at the table and warming her hand against the porcelain. "Where's Brody?"

"SpongeBob SquarePants is just about over," she answered, sitting at the table as well.

The still warm cinnamon buns sat in a large glass dish waiting to be devoured. Dylan checked her watch under the table discreetly, or what she thought was discreetly. "Go ahead," Vanita said, setting her coffee down and forking a huge mound of sticky sweet dough onto her plate.

Dylan didn't wait for any more encouragement and quickly dug into breakfast. She always looked forward to breakfast, especially when it was Vanita that cooked it. Usually she sat down to an egg white omelet filled with tomatoes and kale, but she never turned down the older woman's homemade cinnamon buns. By the time Brody's show ended, she was leaning back against her chair with an empty plate and sipping her tea quickly.

Her brother climbed into his chair and Vanita served breakfast for both of them. She would have loved to stay but if she didn't get on the road soon she'd be late for work, something that they didn't tolerate as easily as Dr. Colburn. Dylan downed the rest of her tea and stood from the table, taking her plate and teacup to the dishwasher. She returned to the table and kissed her brother's sticky cheek, before grabbing her gym bag, "I'm off. Remember to take your new meds. No pills, no soccer."

The drive to work was as congested and uneventful as usual and by the time she arrived she was aching to get on the treadmill. Such a heavy breakfast paired with the previous evenings food gorging involved a slightly faster interval session than normal. When she completed her cool down she was dripping in sweat and hoping Lane pushed her hard on weights as well. He sashayed toward her, obviously staring at the sweat stains under her breasts and in her armpits, "Halloween get the best of you?"

"You have no idea," she said, pulling a fingerless glove over her left hand for traction. "I think I ate an entire pizza to myself."

"Maybe you're pregnant," he stated calmly.

"I'd need to get laid for that."

"You need to go out to get laid."

"Can't you share some of your men?" she asked sinfully. She'd seen the men Lane spent his evenings with and they were beautiful. He attracted only the most perfect of men, all of them likely to have been cut from the same stone he'd been cut from himself.

"I think your privates scare them."

She snorted as they made their way to the squat stations. She loaded her bar with her desired weight and turned to look at Lane, "It's really not that scary, if you're looking to switch hit."

Joking and flirting with Lane was one of her favorite daily activities, and knowing that he'd never follow through made him her safest option. He scrunched his nose up in disgust but answered her question with one of his own, "Why don't you come out with us next Friday?"

Dylan pushed up from her squat and took a deep breath," I have to work that night."

"After. There's no excuse either. Your mom has Brody that night," he said when he finished his first set of squats.

"Maybe I will," she answered, getting into lunge position, still shouldering the weighted bar.

Lane followed suit, both of them finishing their first set of lunges before speaking again. Already both of them were sweating and their breathing was coming a little more forcefully. "Girl, you need dick. You're coming, I'll switch shifts with Tony and we can get ready together."

She laughed at the thought of her getting ready for a night out with Lane. She had a couple of University girlfriends that she saw occasionally, but that was usually just over a glass of wine. She hadn't "gotten ready" with anyone in years, least of all a male. The thought of it appealed to her, and she suddenly realized that Lane had somehow become her best friend in the two years they'd worked together. "Oh, this is gonna be priceless."

"Darlin', I am priceless," he chirped in the sassiest voice she could remembering ever hearing.

After their workout Dylan showered quickly and changed into fresh clothes. She dried her hair and threw it up into a messy bun just in time to greet her first client of the day. She pushed her next two male clients as hard or harder than she'd pushed herself. While they groaned, grunted, and heaved, she lost herself in thoughts of her elevator eye candy.

With a physique like that Kelly must have spent a fair amount of time working out. She wondered how often he was in the gym and if actually enjoyed it like she did. With the determination needed to maintain such a defined body he had to have liked it. And the idea that they might share a common interest made him even more attractive to her. She tried to force his image from her mind but was unsuccessful. Almost a week later and she still found herself wondering about him. She had a serious crush on a random stranger and she couldn't stop herself.

By the end of the day Dylan was sure she'd developed an obsession and she was bound and determined to rid herself of it. Her method was still undecided but she knew it had to be soon. It wasn't healthy to focus so much thought on any man, let alone on one she'd never see again. When Lane walked her to her car after her shift she promised she was all in for a night out the following Friday. She could use some good drunken depravity. Being the responsible sister was fine, but she was wound too tight and could use an evening off from daily duties.

Dylan strolled through the front door and breathed the delightful smell of whatever Vanita had prepared for dinner. It wasn't unusual that she would whip up something delicious even though it wasn't required of her. The woman was a little thicker around the middle than she should have been but her cooking was generally healthy and phenomenal.

"How was he today?" she asked, when she stepped into the kitchen.

Vanita looked up from the magazine she was reading at the table and smiled. The table was set messily, an obvious indication that Brody had set it before returning to his room. "As angelic as usual," she laughed, pointing at the sink.

Looking into the sink she spied a broken coffee cup and a bent Frisbee. She could only imagine what game he'd invented that involved such random materials. Instead of getting upset, she simply laughed it off, "At least he's imaginative."

She had to give him credit for keeping himself amused while she was at work in the daytime. Vanita was no spring chicken, and though she loved to play board games with Brody, there was only so much Monopoly a person could take. "He also mentioned something about an old man with gray hair he was going to see tomorrow."

An awkward sound of hope mingled with embarrassment escaped her mouth before she could stifle it. The idea of seeing him again caused a few noticeable palpitations but she kept her eyes steady as Vanita smiled wisely. Just knowing that Brody had also remembered the elevator stranger made her comfortable with her decision that he had to be a good man. But she had no expectations that they'd see him again. He'd been as healthy as a mule upon first glance, and, quite frankly, her luck just didn't stretch that far.

"That's unlikely," Dylan sighed.

"Someone's got a case of the hots."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The all knowing nanny smiled again, reaching forward to pat her hand soothingly, "Your secret's safe with me, dear."

Dylan willed the self conscious blush upon her cheeks away and smiled gratefully at the much older women. The last thing she needed was her mother hounding her about priorities and responsibilities. In the five years since Brody came into their lives she'd never once lost site of what was needed of her. She always did the right thing, she always put her brother before herself, and she never regretted a moment of it. But she did often wonder if she'd ever find a man to love. If she'd ever have a family of her own, which was her ultimate goal for a well lived life.

Heaving Vanita's heavy bag off the counter she walked Brody's caregiver to the door. Spending time with any child could be trying, but spending time with her brother everyday could get exhausting. He was confined to a small space and his mischievious nature often got the best of him. By Thursday, Vanita was ready for a relaxing Friday when Dylan had the day off.

"What time is your first client Saturday?" Vanita asked.

"Ten thirty, so if you're here by eight thirty I can get a good ab session in before my client shows up."

A swift nod and Vanita was out the door with the smell of vanilla and lavender wafting after her. Dylan locked the door and shouted up for her brother to join her for dinner. Whatever it was smelt delicious and her stomach had been grumbling since she'd stepped into the house. They ate dinner slowly while Brody explained the rules of coffee Frisbee to her amusement. By the time she finished cleaning away the plates she was fully intrigued with the game and risked breaking another cup to try it out. The rest of the night they spent lounging on the floor taking turns throwing the Frisbee with the mug of water in it across the room. She mopped the hardwood shortly before she put Brody into bed and crawled into her own as well. Still, thoughts of Kelly lingered at the edge of her subconscious until she fell asleep.

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**Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and alerts. Did you see that snail pass this story? Sorry about that, I swear it's heading somewhere. I think.**


	4. Chapter Four: Let it Go

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Four: Let it Go**

Friday dawned grey and cloudy, the makings of a grumpy day in the air. She wasn't surprised at all when Brody grumbled at her in the kitchen while she made breakfast. He'd always had the habit of matching his mood with that of Mother Nature's. Unfortunately, the fact that he also had a doctor's appointment didn't help matters. He ate his meal in silence and then retreated to his room until she could finish cleaning the kitchen and draw his bath.

He bathed quickly before returning to his room to play video games. He preferred to calm himself down without help from her, and she could definitely relate. She'd always hated being bugged when in a bad mood as a child. Instead of bothering him, she left him to his own devices, regardless of how much she'd have liked to cheer him up. She'd found out quickly that he didn't respond positively to playful tactics. Eventually he would right his world and he'd be back to causing trouble for her household.

Just before lunch, she heard him tiptoeing down the stairs, taking extra care to avoid the squeak in the fifth stair. Unfortunately, his excited breathing spilled down the stairs and she knew immediately he was once again trying to sneak up on her. She continued frying the halibut for tacos until she was certain he was one step behind her, "You want avocado on your tacos?" she asked casually.

Brody heaved a defeated sigh and hopped up onto the chair, "How'd you know I was there?"

"Practice, kiddo," she answered, already moving along the counter to assemble the cabbage slaw, sriracha mayo, and avocado inside the sift corn tortillas.

"Are you psycho?"

"Not that I know of," she laughed, spooning the fish into the taco's and taking the plates to the table. "And I think you meant psychic."

"You read my mind?" he questioned around a mouthful.

Dylan shook her head at the absurdity, explaining things to a five year old could certainly be exhausting sometimes. "Nope, I just know what you meant. And I'm not psychic either, just to clear that up."

"Oh," he answered loudly, nodding his head in acceptance.

He was an odd kid sometimes, questioning everything but accepting her world as law. Half the time when he asked her questions she talked out her ass. A university education hadn't given her any special knowledge she deemed worthy enough to pass onto him. She'd learned just enough to receive her degree and discover her true passion lay in fitness. She'd quickly applied for her personal training courses and sailed through with flying colors. She didn't know why the sky was blue, why zebra's had stripes, or why lady bugs were also male bugs. But she knew how to care for him when he was with her and to her that was all that really mattered.

They cleaned the kitchen together, before she ushered him up to his room to find his mittens and toque for his appointment. Chicago seemed to have it's own internal weather clock. Midnight on November first seemed to bring in the chill and usher out the rain, keeping the wind to offset the transition. Once they'd found them she heaved him over her shoulder and carried him around the house while she collected her own winter gear. Bound and determined to arrive at his appointment at time, she only set him down when they reached the front door. She tugged his coat over his flapping arms and quickly pulled on her own, locking the door quickly.

Triumph shot to her toes at their accomplishment. They'd never avoided a hide and seek game before an appointment. "What's say we get this over with and then we can build a fort in the basement tonight and have a sleepover?"

Brody shrieked his approval and rushed to the car, climbing into the car without her help and buckling himself in. She shut his door firmly and slid behind the wheel. When they reached the downtown core they just missed the end of the lunch rush and sailed relatively smoothly through the streets towards the hospital.

The moment she parked the car near the back of the lot Brody leaned forward between the seats, his small hand tugging on her coat sleeve, "Is Kelly gonna be here?"

Her blush rose and faded quickly and she felt her own hope swing wildly through her stomach, "I don't think so buddy."

Though she too hoped for another casual meeting she knew it was unlikely. It'd more unlikely of him having any recollection of them if they did run into him. What was really all that memorable about them? Nothing she could see anyone as breathtakingly beautiful as Kelly would think twice about.

"I hope when I'm old my hair looks like his," Brody admitted, a distant future in his eyes.

"I hope so too," said Dylan, honestly wishing his lungs developed soon. The silent worry that he wouldn't make it to his next birthday weighed heavily on her day after day, though she wouldn't admit it. She was a strong woman, and her pains were her own.

She hoisted him onto her back and made her way through the parking lot. With a quick hello to a very surprised Sam they boarded the elevator and arrived ten minutes early for Brody's weekly visit. She kept her mind focused on the appointment as much as possible but again she found her mind drifting to Kelly. There was a little disappointment at not seeing him, but instead of dwelling on it she forced herself to let thoughts of him go. No doubt it was down right unhealthy to be wondering about someone she didn't know. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should have answered yes when Brody asked if she was psycho. No one should spend so much time thinking of a stranger. Pulling his face to her minds eye one last time she allowed herself a deep sigh of desire then shoved him from her head forcefully. Enough was enough.

When Brody finished his neb Dr. Colburn completed the usual physical and finished with a quick listen of his lungs. While he concentrated on her brother's chest sounds she watched his face for any sign of unusual activity. She knew he'd only been on the holistic medications for less than a week but huge hopes were shouldered onto them quickly and silently. When the doctor lowered the stethoscope she leaned back in her seat. Eventually they would work but she hoped it was sooner than later. His weak lungs needed to develop a lot more in the next two months if they were going to get him out on the field.

"Well, I'd love to continue our previous conversation about Snape stabbing Dumbledore in the back, but I have another appointment," Dr. Colburn said, as he draped his stethoscope around his neck.

Dylan stood and shouldered her jacket and purse back on before helping Brody into his coat. She could see disappointment flit across Brody's before it was gone. He was already a little sad when he didn't get to spend a few extra minutes hanging with the good doctor. She had no doubt though that he wouldn't make it up to her brother at the next appointment when Rachel took him. Those appointments could drag on to an hour if Brody didn't get impatient.

"Tell your mother I said hello," he added, walking them to the lobby of his office. "I'll see you next week, Slugger."

A quick pat to the head and he was moving back down the hallway to his next appointment. She wondered if her mother and the doctor were completely oblivious about their feelings for each other. Rachel was still a beautiful woman, robust, healthy, and young. At only forty four, it was about time she settled down with a respectable man. Her wild days had been over the minute Brody was born. Now it was time for a father figure to guide him, and if the adults would smarten up, Dr. Colburn would be perfect for them.

Dylan steered Brody to the car while she wondered if her mother and the doctor would ever get their shit together. All around her it seemed like people were settling down and starting families. And even though she never thought about her father she wouldn't mind having a man stick around in her mothers life for good, and by extension; hers as well as Brody's. Thankfully, worrying over her mother's love life left little time for her to remember she'd let Kelly go. He hadn't crossed her mind since the moment she'd decided against him. Sometimes she was stronger than she gave herself credit for. Even her hot and heavy hormones hadn't looked for him as they'd left the hospital. Small miracles.

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**Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and alerts. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it. I swear Kelly will make an appearance here right away. Until then, enjoy the episode tonight!**


	5. Chapter Five: Almost Knight

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Five: Almost Knight**

The following week passed swiftly and Lane took every chance to remind her that she'd agreed to go out with him and his friends Friday night. Come Friday morning Dylan was a little apprehensive about attending. She hadn't been to a pub or club in so long and she had no idea what to expect. Instead of spending an hour trying to decide what to wear she packed a duffle bag of multiple pieces and dumped it on the floor of the staff change room after her shift.

Lane looked at the pile and smiled, eager to pick her outfit for her. Having a gay, high fashion loving, friend was going to make any events they attended together exceptional. She could pick out the perfect casual or business outfit, but put her in a club situation and she was lost. "Go shower and I'll find you something that will have men panting after you," he said, as he began sifting through the clothes.

Dylan showered quickly, knowing they were running a little late after her last client had wanted to chat about nutritional supplements. She dried herself thoroughly and pulled on both her panties and bra before vacating the single shower. Lane blinked at her when she stepped from behind the shower curtain and grinned wide, "Hubba hubba. This is gonna be easier than I thought!"

He sashayed past her wearing only a towel and disappeared into the stall to shower. His singing carried over the sound of running water until she turned on the hair dryer to drown him out. His shower was much longer than hers and was he only just padding towards her when she shut the dryer off. "So where are we meeting your friends?"

"I thought we'd meet up with them at Tantric for martini's before we head to Bamboo," he answered, toweling off and stepping into a pink pair of boxer briefs. He added tight jeans, faded perfectly, over his muscular thighs and hard round butt.

She couldn't help but wish he'd been born straight. The things she could imagine doing to him colored her cheeks and Lane, always perceptive, wiggled his butt for her eyes. "Asshole," she laughed, turning back to the mirror and fingering her caramel waves into soft curls.

"Stop staring at my butt then," he said, tugging a cream V-neck shirt over his head and moving to her side to style his own short hair.

"Stop working out then."

Lane expertly maneuvered his hair into the perfect style and stepped back to admire himself before gazing at her in the mirror. She had yet to get dressed in the outfit he'd picked and he raised his brows in question.

As soon as he stepped in the shower she'd looked over what he'd assembled and felt a nervous rumble deep in her stomach. What he'd thrown together was something she never would have paired on her own. It was definitely sexy and maybe a little more revealing for her likes but she could see he wasn't going to allow for anything else. Instead of complaining she pulled on the faded and expertly torn skinny jeans, shimmied into the blindingly white crop top and buttoned on the short brown leather vest.

Lane whistled low in his throat as she turned to face the full length mirror, "Who knew you had a body under all your sweat pants?"

Dylan rolled her eyes and turned back to him as he lifted a pair of the highest pointy toe heels she'd ever seen towards her. She gaped at them without comprehension, "What are those?"

"Your new shoes. I bought them last weekend," he answered, holding them out for her to collect. "Here. Put them on."

"I can't wear those. I'll tear my calves right off the bone."

"Oh stop being a baby. Just put them on."

He shoved the suede stilettos into her hands and cocked his hip to the side, his hands waving impatiently at her. She fingered the soft material but didn't place them on her feet. Though they were only two and a half inches high she wasn't sure they'd work for her. She'd worn high heels before, but the point had always been a little thicker giving her more stability. The coral heels, though beautiful, were certainly a death trap for her. "They're beautiful," she said, sliding in one foot then the other. "Thank you Lane."

Turning to the mirror again she was surprised at how put together she looked. Though she'd doubted the color combination at first, the coral seemed to tie the entire outfit together. She smiled at herself, admiring the sexy women who stared back at her.

He walked up beside her and draped his arm over her shoulder; crushing her to his side, "Don't mention it." She had to admit that separately they looked wonderful, but together they looked like movie stars. "Well, Princess, let's do this," Lane beamed, taking her hand and their duffle bags and leading the way to his car. Her newfound pride sent her excitement skyrocketing and she knew the evening was going to be a riot, likely ending in a jail cell.

A pounding headache work her Saturday morning. She was face down on Lane's couch, cuddling the heels he'd bought for her. Pushing herself onto her knees, she looked around at the destroyed living room. She couldn't remember much after Tantric but the devastation of the room proved she'd either been quite intoxicated or a wild eyed beast. Dylan smacked her cottontail mouth, trying to moisten it. "Oh my God," she moaned softly, instantly grabbing her throbbing skull and burying her face in the cushion again.

"It's too early for a close up view of your coochie, Princess," Lane moaned, collapsing on the love seat across from her.

She sat up quickly and grabbed her temples again. Taking a quick look down at herself she found nothing but panties and blushed furiously as she lifted the pillow to cover her chest. "What happened last night?"

"I don't remember but I bet it was fun," he answered.

Lane made his way into the kitchen and poured two tall glasses of water and fished a bottle of Advil out of his cupboards. Handing her the glass and two pills she swallowed them gratefully. He tugged his shirt off and tossed it to her while he returned to his couch. "Thanks," she croaked, pulling the large shirt over her head and leaning back against the couch. She had no idea where her clothes from the previous night were but knew if she moved off the couch she'd likely find them strewn around the apartment. "Where's everyone else?"

"I think we split from them around two and went to Boudoir. But Mark text me and told us to meet them at Felicity for breakfast. I'm starving, so get your ass up and dressed. Your bag is by the door."

He rose unsteadily from the couch and disappeared into his room to get dressed. Dylan strained her neck to peer around the kitchen table towards the door. Her bag sat there, way out of reach, and she dreaded having to get it. Pushing herself to her feet, she shut her eyes and let the vertigo pass before she grabbed her bag and made her way to the bathroom.

Digging through her belongings slowly she found a pair of snug sweats and loose hoodie she normally reserved for early morning runs. Taking a deep breath she struggled into her sports bra and peeled off her underwear, replacing it with the sweat pants and enfolding her torso in the warm sweater. She was thankful that Lane's friends had chosen a breakfast joint known for a sloppy hung over crowd because she was in no mood to wear heels, jeans, or underwear. Dylan brushed her teeth savagely then splashed some water on her face before tying her hair into a high ponytail.

When she returned to the living room, dragging her bag behind her, Lane was lacing up a pair of comfy Nike's. He was dressed in much the same fashion as her and looked as haggard as she did. They were like two peas in a pod. "Can you drive me to my car after?"

"Of course," answered Lane, locking the door behind them.

She tossed her bag in the trunk of his car and collapsed against the soft leather while he weaved his way through the downtown streets. Within minutes he parked in a small lot across from the shady looking restaurant. She was glad she lived in the suburbs, but living downtown would have been much more convenient for the gym and hospital.

Upon entering the packed diner she was hit with a wave of day old alcohol. The smell rocked her on her feet and she tried to settle her stomach before she erupted on the back of the girl in front of her. Lane put his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the back of the restaurant to a large table with two free seats. Lane's friends looked as rough as she felt. She acknowledged everyone at the table then buried her head in the menu until the waitress took her order.

Once she'd eaten enough to calm the storm in her gut she was finally able to ask what had happened the night before. It seemed Lane's memory was as fuzzy as her own and it was only after talking to his friends that she found out how much they'd drank. Somehow Lane had returned to their table at Bamboo with free bottle service and the night had taken off from there. After she and Lane had left for Boudoir there was no way to find out the missing pieces. They'd made it back to his place in one piece and that was all that mattered.

Dylan was laughing as Lane explained how he'd acquired the free bottle service when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She dug it out of her sweat pants and pressed answer, "Hey mom," she said into the phone.

"Baby, Brody had another attack."

Her heart stopped instantly, the fear of death quickly squeezing the air out of her body. She gulped spastically, "Is he okay? Where are you? He's alive, right? Mommy, he's alive?"

The tears sprang from her eyes, and she continued to gulp for while her mother explained the medics had taken him to their usual hospital under Dr. Colburn's orders and he'd met them in the emergency room. "He's alive but I haven't heard anything else yet."

"I'm coming," she said, shooting out of her chair and wiping her cheeks dry. She was flustered and panicky, but managed to shoulder her way out of the restaurant. The cold air dried her eyes as she turned left and walked towards the hospital in the distance. Six blocks ahead her brother was lying in emergency, nurses and doctors feeing tubes into him and pumping oxygen down his throat. Images from their last extended hospital stay sprang to the fore front of her mind. She couldn't fathom life without the little monster, couldn't even begin to understand how she'd survive.

Instead of hoping for the best she found herself morbidly wondering if she'd have to say goodbye to his tiny blue body. She focused her eyes and looked for the hospital that was much too close already. Without realizing it, walking had turned into sprinting and her lungs burned as she pushed herself even harder. Her muscles pumped beneath her, carrying her swiftly to her brothers unknown fate.

With only a block left the hospital loomed above her, a bringer of heartache and despair. What usually looked so innocent now seemed drawn in darkness. Dylan felt her body failing her, more from fatigue than the fear that held her heart in it's icy grasp.

Forcing another lung full of air into her body, she sprinted around the side of the hospital past the front doors. Skidding around the next corner she saw the long driveway leading to the emergency room and with one last burst of energy she threw herself forward through the sliding doors. Dylan banged against the glass partition startling a nurse from her paperwork, "Brody Dumont?" she expelled. Gulping twice, she felt the tears running down her face and into the hood of her sweater, "Asthma attack?"

Dylan clasped her knees and bent over, trying unsuccessfully to calm her breathing. Instead of waiting for an answer she pushed herself off her legs and sprinted towards the doors leading to the back. She'd been there enough times to know he'd be in the one room in emergency that was closed off from the rest by glass walls. She slammed through the doors ignoring the nurse's hollering. It was only a matter of time before security was called and she was detained, but until then she would find her family.

As if on cue the security guard sitting behind a small desk at the end of the hall stood from his chair and scowled at her. He'd obviously been under the impression that his day was going to be an easy and relaxing one. How wrong he'd been. She blinked at him and followed the direction of his eyes. Behind her, two portly men were approaching her cautiously, palms raised to calm the crazy woman. Instead of waiting for them to grab her she took off at a run again, straight for the first guard. She could read in his face that he was worried she was going to be unstable.

Before she could determine how to out maneuver the man in front of her she was grabbed around the middle and pinned harshly, back to chest. She struggled in her captor's arms, swinging one arm up and catching the guard in the nose with an elbow. He grunted in pain but caught her arm and pinned it against his chest again. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled.

Her breath was still coming in gulps as she tried to calm her heart rate, "Brody. Brother."

A quick glance forward showed the first security guard coming towards her, backed by a broad fireman. Dylan took another deep breath and coughed as her captor yanked her arms behind her back and cuffed them. "Henry, call 5-0."

Cutting him off with a snarl she wrenching her cuffed wrists free of his grasp, "Fuck you buddy! I'm looking for my brother," she said, turning to face him.

"I don't care who you're looking for, you're belligerent and uncooperative."

"Try me," she said, glancing at his nameplate, "Brad. I'll show you belligerent and uncooperative when I shove my foot up your ass."

"Hey fella's, what's going on here?"

"Mind your business," she snapped, turning quickly to face the rubber-necker. Her patience was gone, and dealing with four asshole security guards while her brother was possibly dying was enough. The last thing she needed was some idiot making matters worse.

Unfortunately, when she allowed herself to focus on the new comer, she found she was snarling at a well muscled fireman with sea foam eyes and dark hair streaked through with gray. Dylan allowed herself a second to process the beauty in front of her before her mouth opened and she croaked, "Kelly."

"Guys, how about we un-cuff this lovely lady and let her explain," he smiled, using his charms on the four men. "I can vouch for her."

Having never witnessed fireman envy in person she was shocked to see all four men smile back at him, though Brad a little reluctantly. The latter yanked her towards him again and she felt him unlocking the metal bracelets quickly. He wasn't gentle with her and as he slipped the cuffs off he made sure to scrape the skin off her left wrist. She hissed in pain and rubbed her wrist gently as he walked away with a scowl on his face. The other guards dispersed slowly, obviously trusting that Kelly could handle the crazy woman.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes already traveling to the back of the hallway where she could just see a thin woman facing the glass room, shoulders stiff with worry.

Her mother was wearing mismatched leg warmers and for whatever reason Dylan focused on that single solitary thing. Brody's attacks were too swift to prepare for, but the two colors made her stomach clench in fear. Changing clothes was never an option and the color difference seemed to prove how close to death he could be. She felt her eyes swell again, and she brushed the tears away furiously, mortified to be crying in front of a complete stranger. "Sorry. I have to go. Thanks again, Kelly."

"You're not going to explain why Brad was getting ready to taze you?" he asked, his voice singing through her veins.

Shivering at the unexpected reaction she looked back at her mother, "My brother had another attack."

Kelly slid his hands into the waistband of his pants, just behind each side of his suspenders. The movement drew her attention to the dark blue long sleeve shirt he wore, stretched across his chest and bearing his firehouse crest. "An attack?"

"He has asthma."

"Well, let's go make sure he's okay then, why don't we?" He smiled at her again, falling in beside her.

Dylan turned to look at him, unsure what he was playing at. There was no reason for him to need or want to find out the status of her brother. She couldn't decide whether he was being friendly or trying to use his charm to get in her pants. Either way, she found herself rooted to the floor, unable to move. Only minutes before she'd been unable to stop herself from moving and now she just wanted to stand still and close her ears. If she didn't move, she couldn't find out that her brother had taken a turn for the worse. Couldn't find out that was the reason their mother was standing so forlornly in her two different leg warmers. "I can't," she said, her voice calmly detached though she felt another single tear roll down her cheek.

"Come on," said Kelly, and he gave her a little push forward.

Placing one foot in front of the other she finally arrived at her destination and peered in the room. Dr. Colburn and a team of nurses were checking vitals and scribbling on his already thick chart. She slid her right hand into her mothers left, grasping the clammy skin gratefully. She pulled comfort from the grip, "Is he okay, Mom?"

"He will be. I didn't even have time to get his puffer. One minute he was giggling, the next he was just lying there."

Brody smiled weakly at her, lifting his hand in a slight wave. He kept his eyes trained on her as she pressed her free palm to the window. He raised his hand once more and held it steady for her benefit. His bright green eyes traveled to her left and his face lit up as he caught sight of Kelly. "Put your hand on the glass," she told the fireman without tearing her eyes from her brother.

"Huh?"

"Just do it," she whispered.

He followed her directions and placed his palm on the glass beside her own. His hand dwarfed hers and for whatever reason her heart skipped a beat. Brody raised his hand again at Kelly and she saw him smile back at the child who'd teased him in an elevator.

When Brody lowered his arm to the bed again, she saw Kelly flinch slightly and move away from the window. "I've got to get back to the station. Tell Brody I said hello."

"I will. Thanks again," she answered softly, turning back to her brother so he couldn't read the disappointment on her face.

He sighed and walked back the way he'd come, her almost knight in dirty fireman gear. He'd saved her ass, and she wanted to repay him but knew he probably wouldn't accept it. He rescued people for a living. He'd done it out of habit and nothing more. Besides, what did you get for the man who clearly had everything he needed?

"Hey, Brody's sister?"

She looked over her shoulder, her eyebrow raised in question, "Yeah?"

"What's your name?"

A small smile pulled up the corners of her mouth, "Dylan."

Kelly mouthed Dylan silently, as if tasting the letters to make sure they meshed well together. Once satisfied he smiled, nodded once, and left through the ambulance doors.

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**Thanks for all the feedback, I really enjoy it. And to the reviewers who noticed the crazy age, that was my bad math. It's been corrected! Rachel is 44. Dr. Colburn's age hasn't been specified but let's put him at 56. A significant but manageable age gap.**


	6. Chapter Six: What I Do

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Six: What I Do**

Kelly smiled as he pushed through the ambulance bay doors. When he and Casey had brought in the young man with the machine wrapped around his arm he hadn't expected to see her again. The flushed and tear stained cheeks, wind swept hair, and bloodshot eyes had done nothing to hide her beauty. Not classically beautiful, but pretty in an odd way. She was not the kind of woman he was typically attracted to. If he was honest with himself, he preferred them thin, with large breasts, and blonde if he could get it. Barbie was timeless for a reason. But she'd remembered his name and that alone gave him a tight feeling in his chest.

She, Dylan, had wavy caramel hair, expressive hazel eyes, and and wonderfully defined body. Even through her sweat pants he could see the shape of her thighs. He could only imagine what she looked like naked. Instead of soft pliable flesh, he knew he'd find strong but feminine muscles. And when he'd left her waiting to hear about her brother he'd checked out her ass. The curves he spied had him stopping to ask her name. When she'd told him he let the name roll of his tongue and found that it fit her perfectly. She could never be a Brittney, a Rebecca, or even a Jordan. She was a Dylan, and that was that.

He'd caught himself wondering about her and the kid more than once since he'd met them in the elevator. It wasn't a conscious decision either. He'd space out to avoid the pain in his shoulder and all of a sudden he'd realize he'd been thinking about her again. She was a distraction and he used her freely, without guilt.

When he climbed up into the passenger seat of the waiting fire truck a fiery spike of pain shot through his shoulder and he groaned softly. He'd gotten better at hiding his sounds of pain, even learned to keep his face relatively neutral if his shoulder bothered him in front of his men. What he desperately needed was more pain meds, and he needed them yesterday. Leslie had cut him off and relying on his own devices was proving to be rather difficult. Just something to take the edge off was all he wanted. How was it that he'd been unable to find anyone to supply him with something stronger than a damn Advil? It wasn't like he was asking for meth after all.

Of course, surgery just wasn't an option. He couldn't afford to take time off, financially, physically, or mentally. Leslie's doctor friend hadn't made her case very appealing either. Six months to a year of rehab, and even then it wasn't a sure thing. He may never regain full mobility and stability? She might as well have told him to jump off a bridge. All he'd ever wanted was to be was a fireman; becoming a paper pusher for the district was the lowest of lows. Besides, he was strong enough to resist addiction, and at the moment painkillers were his only option.

Later that day when he'd finally heard from Anna he put on the sexy Kelly grin he knew she couldn't resist and met her for a drink at a pub close to her hotel. She'd been useful for a few nights but he hadn't called her back since. Women seemed to attached themselves to him and never leave. It was best to get while the getting was good. After the fiasco with his ex-fiancé he simply didn't do relationships, they were nothing but a pain in the ass and a waste of resources. Although, there was something about the elevator girl that made him think otherwise.

She was different, appealing in a way that made him question his sanity. She was strong and independent. Where was the flighty, flirty, and filthy he always seemed to be drawn to? She didn't appear to be a sex kitten and she didn't seem weak and fragile. Taking care of her would be impossible. And though he could deny it all he wanted, he loved to take care of women, if it was the "worth it" kind of woman. He wanted to be the breadwinner, bring home the bacon, pay the bills, and make the huge decisions. With her, he didn't stand a chance of any of that. She would make him less than a man.

But even as Anna reminisced about their past sexual escapades he could think of nothing but Dylan's beautiful face and the small delicate hand she'd held up to her brother. She was a contradiction in and of herself. Strong but small. Fierce but emotional.

"…pick a night. You can ask for your favor then," she cooed at him.

He pulled himself together, the dull ache in his shoulder returning, "I'll swing by tomorrow."

What she wanted was written plainly on her face, and he'd do it because he didn't have a choice. Leslie had cut him off and he was in dire need of some relief. So what if his method of obtaining the painkillers was questionable? He'd be pain free and doing what he'd always wanted to do. Not to mention he'd be getting laid so as far as he could see it was a win win situation.

The next day as he prepared himself to knock on Anna's hotel room door he wondered if he'd regret what he'd came to do. He was used to using women, he was a fireman for Christ's sake. Women practically threw their panties at him. However, _he'd_ never been used for sex and the idea of being someone's toy didn't appeal to him all that much. He paused a second, fist raised uncertainly, than knocked before he could change his mind. Pain relief was his highest priority and he could deal with any emotional damage later. Much later.

"Well, hello gorgeous. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show," she said, as she answered the door.

Kelly went through the motions of pleasing Anna, knowing what she did and didn't like. The last place he wanted to be was in bed with her. Yeah, he'd been there before, but that'd been totally different. It'd been hot, fantastic, and totally free from guilt. What he was doing now felt different, and it was. Shamefully different. He lost himself in thoughts of Dylan, knowing she would never approve of his methods. She probably wouldn't approve of him period. In fact, she probably hadn't thought of him at all since the hospital.

He waited until Anna was satisfied before bringing up the real reason he was there. The sick feeling in his stomach magnified as he took a breath, "I need a favor, Anna."

She turned to face him, an incredulous look upon her face, "Can we just order a little room service first?"

"You asked me to meet you here, and I did," he said, eyes fixating on the ceiling. He couldn't look her in the eye. He wouldn't even be able to look at himself in a mirror just then.

Turning to face him she smiled innocently, then said, "Fine. Go ahead. You want a favor. Let's hear it."

If he didn't say anything, he could leave it as it was. A lay and nothing else. He could keep his dignity and pride. But the pain in his shoulder chose that moment to fester worse than before, "I need something. Okay? Something strong." It was done. There was no taking it back.

When Kelly met her the following day he accepted the pills and tried as tactfully as possible to turn down her sexual advances. Before she walked away she kissed him, and all he felt was a sick rolling in his stomach. He'd done something unethical, something completely disgusting, but there'd been no other way to ease the pain.

As he popped the first pill from the blister pack and swallowed it dry he wondered what Dylan would think of him. Would she find him as repulsive as he found himself? Would she even give him the time of day now if she knew he'd used his body as payment for drugs? Instead of dwelling on it, he pulled his car away from the curb and decided it didn't matter what Dylan thought. He'd never see her again anyways.

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**Thanks for all the feedback. Sorry it's taken forever to finish this minuscule chapter. I've been distracted by real life lately. **


	7. Chapter Seven: Are You Stalking Me?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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**Wild Eyed Beauty**

**Chapter Seven: Are You Stalking Me?**

A few hours after Dylan had arrived at the hospital, in spectacular fashion, Brody was moved to a sterile room in the ICU for a night. She would have preferred a normal room but if they'd been given one in recovery, they wouldn't have needed one. Instead they were only allowed in his room in gowns and booties, and even then the nurses were watching over them like hawks. Not that she hated that aspect, an eye on her meant two more on her brother and he needed all the supervision he could get.

She was lying beside Brody on the bed when his breathing finally slowed and he drifted off. They'd been cuddling for the last hour while he tossed and turned and begged her not to leave. Eventually the nurses would kick her and Rachel out for the night but until then she was content to rest beside him.

Thoughts of Kelly drifted into her mind again and she swore under her breath. After all her hard work to forget about him he'd weaseled his way back into her head with his damn eyes and his damn mouth and his damn smile. The fireman pants had only acted to excite her libido again and she was left frustrated and confused.

Why had he spoken up for her? Why had he made the effort to talk to her brother in the elevator? From the little contact she'd had with him she'd now realized he was a little cocky, full of himself, and definitely knew how beautiful he was. And that only served to attract her even more. But as vibrant as he was, she got the feeling something was troubling him, and the way he flinched at Brody wasn't lost on her. Whatever put the fear in him, it must have been a doozy.

Dylan was still wondering about the fireman when the door opened softly and Dr. Colburn and their mother stepped into the room. They'd gone for coffee to discuss his latest attack and from the color in their cheeks she assumed they'd finally admitted their feelings for each other. Of course, that was probably on the down low and she wouldn't be made privilege to that information for months.

"So, what provoked this one?" she asked the doctor.

"We're not sure, it could have been a multitude of things. But a positive with this attack is the severity was minimal compared to his last three."

"What are you saying?"

Rachel smiled brightened the room considerably and Dylan's breath caught in her chest painfully. She wanted to smile, wanted to cry, because there was only one reason their mother would smile in such a dire moment.

"I believe his medications are finally starting to make a difference. His lungs sound a little stronger than last week. This trigger may have been mild but I tend to think his lungs are developing."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she sat up straighter and squeezed Brody's small hand. She didn't want to take the credit for the small positives, but what else could it be but the holistic medications? There was really no other explanation. They were the only thing that had changed in his daily routine in the last few weeks.

"Can we take him home then?"

"I want to keep him overnight for observation but you can pick him up in the morning."

Dylan slid off the bed gently and tucked her brothers hand under his chin. He looked peaceful while he slept and she was thrilled that he was gaining strength daily. The thought of seeing him run after a soccer ball gave her chills. She wanted to tell someone, anyone would do. Then Kelly sprang forth again and she could think of no one she wanted to tell more, not that it mattered an iota to him.

Pushing his smirking face from her mind she turned and hugged her mother. There was a silver lining in their lives, finally. Rachel sputtered, giggled, then freely cried against her shoulder as she let five years of pent up anger, frustration, and crippling sadness tumble from her body. It was much too soon to believe in miracles, but they'd take even this tiny positive.

When Dylan released her mother and wrapped the good doctor in an embrace she wasn't surprised that he hesitated a moment before hugging her back. His professional walls were a little too tall to break down in one day, but she wouldn't give up. Eventually her mother and his relationship would be made public. At that time she hoped he'd open up a little and share his love with her and Brody as well.

"Thank you, Dr. Colburn," she said, as she stepped from his arms.

"Call me Keith."

The corner of her mouth hitched up and she nodded at him before grabbing her cell phone from the bedside stand. She said her goodbyes to the lovebirds and made them promise to tell Brody she'd be waiting at their mother's with Vanita's special cinnamon buns as soon as he was discharged.

Making her way slowly through the hospital she felt lighter than she had in a long time. She was exhausted and starving but she knew if asked she'd be able to party all night on sheer happiness. Scrolling through the contacts on her phone she selected Lane and waited while it rang.

"Hey Princess. How's Brody?"

"He's doing good, I finally got him to sleep. Do you think you can pick me up? I don't even have my wallet."

"I'll be there in twenty," he said before hanging up.

With twenty minutes to waste she wandered to the front of the hospital and sat on the cold pavement. The chilly hair tossed her hair but the sudden drop in temperature couldn't bring her mood down. Not only had Brody lived and was making a speedy recovery but she'd also seen Kelly again. And really, what were the chances that she'd see him at the same hospital twice? She hoped the odds were good because she had no way of purposely bumping into him "accidently".

Sighing heavily, she wondered how she could squash him again. She needed to quit him, and quit him soon if she stood any chance of sanity. Her crush was slowly becoming an obsession. A decidedly attractive but definitely unhealthy obsession.

The following week slowly returned to normal. Brody had spent Sunday resting and recovered fairly quickly all things considered. The fact that they shared the secret of his improving health only spurred a mental rebound. Instead of slight depression after an attack he was as happy or happier than any regular five year old child.

By Thursday afternoon, Dylan was exhausted and ready for her day off. Though she'd be at the hospital again the following day, it wouldn't be terrifying like the previous trip. In fact, she was kind of looking forward to hearing if Brody was still improving or if the mildness of his attack was just a fluke.

Dylan was sitting in downtown traffic when her phone rang and displayed an unfamiliar number. Likely a client looking to get a session in on Saturday, she sighed deeply. Her schedule was booked solid and when a client couldn't be squeezed in they often expressed their frustration verbally.

She considered hitting ignore but swallowed her trepidation and answered the call, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dylan?"

She vaguely recognized his voice but couldn't place the client, "Yup. Who's this?"

He chuckled softly into her ear, as if finding amusement in the fact that he was unknown. "It's Kelly."

"Kelly?" Dylan answered, her heart speeding up as the voice and the face lined up in her mind. She wondered how he'd gotten her number, even admitting it was a little creepy he'd acquired it without her knowledge. "Hi. What's up?"

"I just wanted to see how Brody was doing?"

"Are you stalking me?" she asked, regretting it the moment it left her lips.

Kelly laughed, the sound sweet against her ear, "A little bit."

She could feel her cheeks color at his admission and thanked God he wasn't sitting beside her to see her embarrassment. What kind of idiot asked a beautiful man if he was stalking her? The audacity of it! If anyone was stalking anyone it was surely her stalking him. "Uh, well, Brody is doing good actually. It was only a mild attack this time. Doc says his lungs are developing a little at a time and that's all we can ask for. How'd you get my number?"

"I hit on a nurse for Brody's records."

"How romantic," she grinned. "I'm flattered, really, I am. But what can I do for you?"

She could hear the grin in his voice when he answered, "You can go out with me. Dinner, tomorrow?"

Dylan was flabbergasted. Utterly unable to believe what she was hearing. There had to be an explanation for what was going on. Maybe he wanted to make sure she wasn't suicidal. Maybe he wanted to learn everything there was to learn about asthma. Or maybe he just felt sorry for her. Whatever the reason, she still couldn't fathom what he'd just asked her. "Why?"

"Cause I'll be hungry after my shift tomorrow."

"Hungry," she stated blankly. A rush of something intense flew through her veins, but she held herself back until she could fully understand the implications of his phone call. He was asking her out. Not to learn about asthma, but to actually spend time with her. Was he mentally damaged or something?

"Yes, hungry. FIghting fires and saving lives builds up a substantial appetite. I'll pick you up at eight?"

"Um, sure," she answered, rattling off her address and cutting the call off before she accused him of something completely unfounded.

Kelly wanted to take her out to dinner. A dinner date. A real date. Just the two of them. The idea of it confused her. She was just an ordinary girl, with nothing spectacular enough for him to have given her a second glance, but obviously something had won him over. She tried to think of whatever could catch the attention of someone so overwhelmingly beautiful. And though she couldn't put her finger on the specific thing that had drawn him to her she felt a pride she'd never known. She had to be wonderful, she had to be beautiful, to gain the attention of Kelly. Normally, she wouldn't have allowed herself to feel quite so wonderful because of a man's advances, but this time she let the feeling reach every part of her body. The shallowness of the situation left her proud and determined to live up to whatever misconstrued perceptions he must have developed.

She was going on a date. With Kelly, the almost knight fireman, "YES!" she screamed, pounding her fists on the steering wheel in blissful excitement.

The drive to her mothers seemed to last minutes after that. Surely she talked with Vanita while Brody grabbed his teddy bear, but whatever had been said she had no recollection of it. Her mind was focused solely on the task of surviving the anxiety that was quickly overwhelming her. She had nothing to talk about with him. She was about as close to interesting as a sleeping herd of cows. Was that a pimple she felt brewing on her forehead? She couldn't leave Brody for the night. Did she order a salad or steak? And more importantly, she had nothing to wear.

Only once she'd made dinner and sat down across from Brody did she wonder how she was going to make a date work. She could ask Vanita to watch Brody but really didn't want to take her day off away. The other option involved asking Lane and she wasn't sure how good he was with children, especially one as energetic and troublesome as her brother.

When she'd finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner she called Lane to ask him to watch her brother. Surprisingly he was all for it. She'd been sure she'd have to ply him with vast amounts of money. Instead, he sounded thrilled to babysit on a Friday night, rather than hitting the club with his friends. Something was amiss with the situation but she was out of options and didn't have a lot of time to come up with a new idea. Before she had time to wonder about his intentions he'd made her promise to let him arrive a few hours early to "create a masterpiece".

After Dylan hung up she realized that was Lane's reason for agreeing so quickly to babysit. He was just excited to play dress up again with his newest favorite doll. Which; if she was truthful with herself; she knew she needed. If it were up to her she'd probably answer the door wearing a pair of torn jeans and a Blackhawks jersey.

The knowledge that she'd be sitting across from Kelly the following evening left her slightly more nervous than she'd cared to be. She tried focusing her attention on Brody and the movie but she found her thoughts drifting into unchartered territories. The last date she'd been on had gone horribly and she hadn't realized how unattractive she found him until he burped in the middle of a sentence. That was more than a year before, and since then life revolved around her brother. It would be nice to go out as an adult, but she wished she'd had time to practice. Maybe date an average guy to get the hang of it again before moving on to the very above average Kelly.

As it stood, she was on her own for the following night.

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**Thanks for the reviews, follows, alerts, and favourites. Much appreciated. **


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